Saturday, May 07, 2005
I dig in my garden and stop when the sirens sail and wail down the street at the end of my own--and I pray. Every time I pray for those who are in trouble, that they will be helped and healed and will come to know Jesus--they and all their relatives, too.
And, also, I pray for the heroes.
This is what I began to do when Naomi first learned to drive. She'd leave the house in our car and nearly always, within minutes, I'd hear sirens and at first? Oh my, I'd worry every time. "Was Naomi involved in an accident?" I'd ask.
Sheesh, that happened again and again. Eventually (because I'm slow), I surmised this was another test--and I was failing.
That's when I began turning my worries into prayers.
I'd pray for whoever had been hurt; that they'd recover, come to know Jesus, they and their relatives. Also, I prayed for the firefighters' safety and of course, that Naomi wasn't the one who'd been hurt.
Eight years ago that began. Twice a day or sometimes six, but whenever I'd hear them--I pray. And still do.
Who knows? Maybe in Heaven strangers will greet me, ones I prayed for without having known their names. Strangers I prayed for every time I heard the sirens wail.
Do you pray siren prayers, too? I'm just curious.